


just a little bit in love

by nightswatch



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:03:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3232136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Combeferre falls in love with one person and doesn't seem to be able to fall out of love with another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just a little bit in love

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt I got on my writing blog: "anything on how Enjolras, Grantaire and Combeferre got together romantically"

Combeferre wasn’t in a hurry, per se. He just really wanted to get home because he was about to fall asleep right where he was standing. He’d just finished one of the longest shifts of his life and just wanted to get a sandwich, since all he had left in his fridge was some yoghurt and a bottle of orange juice.

The problem was that it was 8 am and _everyone_ was getting breakfast and their morning coffee and Combeferre was very, very far away from the sandwich that he so desperately wanted. He checked his watch, trying to estimate how much time he could actually spend sleeping once he got home, not exactly happy with the outcome.

He could just not get a sandwich. See if there was anything left in his freezer. Or just get something to eat later.

Combeferre sighed, thinking of all the times he’d reminded Enjolras to get something healthy to eat, no, not just instant noodles, maybe some vegetables, something that wasn’t completely void of vitamins. He should probably listen to his own advice every now and–

“Combeferre?”

He didn’t immediately recognize the voice, so Combeferre turned around, looking for a familiar face. He found no other than Grantaire sitting by the window, waving at him. “Grantaire,” Combeferre said, smiling down at him, “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Grantaire laughed. “Yeah, I… um, I wasn’t around that much. How are you?” He pointed at the empty chair across from him. “Do you want to sit down?”

“Actually I just wanted to…” Combeferre trailed off and stepped out of the line he’d been standing in for way too long. He might as well wait until the worst of the morning rush was over. He sat down, looking at Grantaire for a moment. He’d changed a lot since they’d last seen each other – he looked healthier somehow, like he hadn’t spent all night wandering from bar to bar. “How have you been?”

“Well,” Grantaire said, huffing out a laugh, “actually I just got back from New York a couple of days ago. I had this… well, art thing. An exhibition, in a way. Yeah…” He scratched his head and smiled sheepishly. “I guess it was an exhibition.”

“Oh,” was all Combeferre so very eloquently managed to say. He hadn’t seen much of Grantaire’s art while they’d still been at university, but what he’d seen had certainly been interesting. Funny even. Still, they hadn’t actually been close, so Combeferre hadn’t had any idea that Grantaire hadn’t been in Paris anymore.

“Yeah, it came as a bit of a surprise to me as well,” Grantaire said, grinning wryly.

“No, I didn’t mean to insinuate that…” Combeferre shook his head. “I’m sorry, I just finished a 48-hour shift at the hospital and I’m a bit sleep-deprived.” He smiled. “Anyway, how long were you in New York for?”

“Just a couple of weeks,” Grantaire said with a shrug. “I was in London before that, which was where a dude from New York started talking to me. It was really weird. I mean, I used to work at a gallery and sold other people’s painting and all of a sudden someone wanted to sell _my_ paintings. It’s pretty ridiculous.”

Combeferre smiled. “I’m glad that things are going well for you.”

“What about you?” Grantaire asked, apparently eager to change the topic. “Are you a doctor yet?”

“I am,” Combeferre said. He was still just an intern, but he was getting there. “Sort of, at least.”

Grantaire hummed thoughtfully, chewing on his bottom lip. “And how is…” Grantaire pushed at his empty cup of coffee, “…everyone else? I mean, I met Joly and Bossuet yesterday, but…”

“Enjolras is doing fine,” Combeferre said. He hadn’t missed that Grantaire had had a huge crush on Enjolras when they’d still been at university. In a way, Combeferre understood. But he was Enjolras’ best friend and he’d never even for a second thought about actually doing something about his own feelings for Enjolras. Then again, neither had Grantaire.

“Yeah, I was being really obvious, wasn’t I?” Grantaire laughed. “Sorry,” he muttered, “are you going out with him, then?”

“What? No, of course not,” Combeferre said, shaking his head ever so slightly.

Grantaire’s eyes went wide. “Oh, I just thought… you know, you two were so close, I thought it was just a matter of time until you…” He trailed off, looking anywhere but at Combeferre. “Wow, this is really awkward.”

“It’s alright,” Combeferre said quickly.

“So you never…” Grantaire shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t matter. Tell me about your job, have you decided what sort of doctor you want to be? Like brain surgery or something? Because I would totally trust you with my brain, just for the record.”

Combeferre smiled. “That’s good to know. Although I’d really rather work with kids.”

Grantaire gave him a warm smile. “Yeah, I bet you’d be good at that.”

“I sure hope so.” Now would be a good time so say, _Grantaire, I’m very sorry, but I really have to go home and get some sleep_ , but Combeferre ordered breakfast instead and asked Grantaire to tell him about New York.

* * *

“You will not believe who I ran into today,” Combeferre said and tucked his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he poured some pasta into boiling water. He needed to leave for work in a bit for another night shift, since half of their staff was home sick with some stomach virus.

After for sleeping for a couple of hours and a quick trip to the grocery store, he’d needed to tell Enjolras about Grantaire. Talking to Grantaire had been delightful – he’d told him about his exhibitions and his travelling, and they’d ended up talking for over two hours and when Combeferre had finally gone home, it still hadn’t felt like they were done catching up.

“Did you meet Joly for lunch?”

“No, I actually ran into Grantaire at the Musain,” Combeferre said, slowly stirring his pasta.

Enjolras was quiet for a moment. “Grantaire,” he mumbled eventually. “As in the Grantaire who always came to our meetings and tried to pick fights with me? That Grantaire?”

“Yes, that Grantaire,” Combeferre said, his lips twitching.

“You didn’t tell him that we still have meetings every now and then, did you?”

“No, but I might have invited him over for dinner on Friday,” Combeferre said lightly. “I thought it might be fun to catch up.”

“Fun,” Enjolras said flatly.

“Well, I thought it would be nice since Courfeyrac can’t make it.” Really, all Combeferre had been thinking about was that he really wanted to see Grantaire again at some point. “I didn’t think you’d mind, I’m sorry.”

“No,” Enjolras said quickly. “I don’t mind. It’s fine. Totally fine. It’s… fine.”

“One _fine_ would have been more than enough,” Courfeyrac mumbled. “I can call him and tell him that–”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it,” Enjolras interrupted. “I’m sure we’ll get along.”

“Yes, you will,” Combeferre said, “because you’ll make an effort to be nice to him.”

Enjolras muttered something under his breath. “Well, I guess I’ll see you on Friday, then.”

Combeferre said goodbye to him, a little worried now. Of course he knew that Grantaire and Enjolras hadn’t always seen eye to eye, but he’d been sure that they’d manage to get along for one evening.

* * *

When his doorbell rang on Friday evening, Combeferre had barely got out of the shower and put on clothes. He was pretty sure that it wasn’t Enjolras. Enjolras was probably still at work and would be roughly thirty minutes late. Combeferre was used to it and he certainly wasn’t expecting it to change any time soon.

So if it wasn’t Enjolras, it was probably Grantaire. Which seemed strange to Combeferre, since he hadn’t thought Grantaire to be someone who was overly punctual.

Combeferre peered through the spyhole and did indeed find Grantaire standing outside the door.

“Sorry I’m early,” was the first thing Grantaire said when Combeferre opened the door for him. “I just wasn’t sure… I mean, I thought I should probably bring some dessert or whatever and… yeah, I just… miscalculated the time it’d take me to buy these,” he held up a box, “and walk over here, so…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Combeferre said and ushered him inside, taking the box from Grantaire so he could take off his shoes and jacket. “What’s in here?”

“Oh, just cupcakes,” Grantaire mumbled. “Do you need help cooking?”

“Actually we’re just having pizza. Courfeyrac insisted. Well, he can’t make it today, but I’d already bought all the ingredients, so I thought we might as well eat them.” Combeferre cleared his throat. He was feeling strangely nervous, even though he had absolutely no reason to be. This was just a regular evening with his friends and that Grantaire was here instead of Courfeyrac really shouldn’t make him this nervous. Somehow, he managed a smile. “Anyway, I have a lot of toppings to choose from, but I guess we should wait until Enjolras gets here.”

“Yeah, we should,” Grantaire said, his lips twitching. “Don’t want him to get pissed off right in the beginning.”

“I’m sure he’ll be on his best behavior,” Combeferre said and led Grantaire into his living room. “Would you like something to drink? I have wine or–”

“Just water is fine.” Grantaire held his gaze for moment as if he was daring Combeferre to say something.

Of course Combeferre knew just how often Grantaire had had a few more drinks than everyone else back at university, but it wasn’t Combeferre’s place to pry, so he simply nodded and went to get each of them a glass of water.

The time until Enjolras showed up passed quickly – Grantaire found a book he’d recently read on Combeferre’s shelf, which led them to the book that Jehan had published, then they briefly talked about Courfeyrac and his and Marius’ law firm, then about Grantaire’s art.

Just when Combeferre was about to ask Grantaire if he could see some of it, the doorbell rang and Combeferre suddenly remembered that Enjolras was going to join them as well. And that Enjolras hadn’t been too happy about him inviting Grantaire.

When Enjolras stepped inside he gave Grantaire a quick once-over, looking almost surprised. “Grantaire, it’s good to see you,” Enjolras said eventually, sparing him a small smile.

“Yeah, it’s, um…” Grantaire stepped back to let Enjolras squeeze past him into the kitchen, “yeah, really nice.”

Grantaire stared after him for a long moment, then Combeferre gave him a nudge. “Right,” Grantaire muttered, shaking his head ever so slightly, making a face as if Combeferre had just caught him doing something forbidden.

“Let’s make some pizza, shall we?” Combeferre said and started pulling toppings out of his fridge and several cabinets.

Much to Combeferre’s surprise, things went pretty well in the beginning. Enjolras told them about his day, just like he usually did, only today Combeferre had to ask him to. He didn’t miss that Grantaire was apparently set on staying out of Enjolras’ way as best as he could, but did give a running commentary on which toppings went well together, snorting when Enjolras dumped a generous amount of cheese on his part of the first pizza.

“What?” Enjolras grumbled, raising his eyebrows at Grantaire.

“Nothing, cheese is great,” Grantaire said cheerfully, grinning at Combeferre before he reached for the mozzarella.

Enjolras only huffed, watching as Grantaire put some ham on his part, arranging it in a heart shape. Enjolras’ seemed to be rather intrigued and didn’t notice that the sleeve of his shirt was about to dip into tomato sauce.

Combeferre pulled Enjolras’ sleeve back. “Careful there.”

“Oh,” Enjolras said, his cheeks turning pink, “thank you.”

Grantaire laughed, which earned him another dark look from Enjolras. “Sorry,” Grantaire mumbled, “I just thought for a second that Combeferre was gonna roll up your sleeves for you.”

“You _should_ roll up your sleeves,” Combeferre remarked.

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Fine, _mum_.” He turned to Grantaire. “You know, Combeferre thinks I’m actually not able to live on my own. Just because I didn’t happen to have a lot of food in my fridge when he last came over. I can actually take care of myself.”

“I’m sure you can,” Grantaire said, smiling at Enjolras.

Well, at least they were getting along. And there was absolutely no reason for Combeferre to feel a twinge of jealousy when Enjolras smiled back at Grantaire. He took a deep breath, reached for the mushrooms, and ignored it.

Other than that the evening went over pretty well, Enjolras and Grantaire only started bickering once and were done pretty quickly when Combeferre put some cupcakes in front of their noses.

Before Grantaire left he promised he’d stay in touch and gave them both a hug.

Once he’d left and Combeferre had shut the door, Enjolras let out a deep sigh. Combeferre frowned. “You know, I was under the impression that you two were actually getting along.”

“Well…” Enjolras trailed off and marched back into Combeferre’s living room.

Combeferre followed him, shooting Enjolras a questioning look.

Enjolras pursed his lips, twirling a stray curl around his finger. “He’s… different. Still annoying, but…” He cleared his throat. “He looks well, doesn’t he?”

“He does,” Combeferre said lowly.

Enjolras hummed, holding Combeferre’s gaze for a few seconds, looking like he was about to say something else. He didn’t, though, only took another cupcake and made himself comfortable on the couch. “Do you mind if I stick around for a bit?”

“Stay as long as you want,” Combeferre said and joined him on the couch, smiling when Enjolras leaned against him.

* * *

“Combeferre! Over here…”

Combeferre turned around and found Grantaire walking towards him, smiling brightly. “Hello, Grantaire.”

“On your way to the Musain?” Grantaire asked, falling into step beside him.

“I am, yes,” Combeferre said. It wasn’t exactly around the corner from his place, but the weather hadn’t looked too bad when he’d started walking. Now it looked like it was going to rain and he was starting to regret that he hadn’t brought an umbrella. Running into Grantaire was a nice surprise, though. “Where are you headed?” he asked.

“Oh, just home.” Grantaire smiled. “I was just talking to a guy. You know, there’s a gallery down the street and they might take some of my new stuff.”

“Let me know if they do,” Combeferre said. “I’d love to take a look.”

“It’s not that special,” Grantaire mumbled, looking up at the sky and wrinkling his nose when raindrops started falling down on them. He sighed and pulled an umbrella out of his backpack. “Aren’t you glad that you ran into me.”

Combeferre laughed and ducked under the umbrella. “I really am.”

They walked a little faster than before, arms pressed together. “Maybe you should take it,” Grantaire said after he’d whacked Combeferre over the head for the second time. “Sorry, but you’re a giant.”

Combeferre snorted and took the umbrella from Grantaire and they walked on in companionable silence. “I’m meeting Enjolras for dinner,” Combeferre said when they were getting closer to the Musain, “do you want to join us?”

“Does _Enjolras_ want me to join you?” Grantaire asked.

“He won’t mind,” Combeferre said, sounding a lot more convinced than he actually was. “You two got along pretty well, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to barge in on your date. _Again_.”

“You’re not barging in. And it’s not a date.” Combeferre laughed lowly. The mere thought of him and Enjolras going out on a date was ridiculous.

“Really?” Grantaire asked. “I mean, you act like an old married couple and even old married couples go out on dates every now and then.”

“It’s not a date,” Combeferre said and for a second he wasn’t sure if he wanted to convince Grantaire or himself.

“Fine, if you really want me to, I’ll come,” Grantaire said, smiling up at him.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to,” Combeferre said and tugged him down the street, still thinking about what Grantaire had said. He was used to the old married couple jokes, Courfeyrac was a huge fan of those, it was just that it hadn’t sounded much like a joke when Grantaire had said it.

His train of thought was interrupted when they reached the Musain, where Enjolras was already waiting for them outside, standing under the small roof by the entrance. He smiled when he saw the two of them coming and held the door open for them so they could quickly duck inside.

* * *

Combeferre stared down at his phone, pondering. He and Grantaire had been sending messages back and forth all day and every time Combeferre had been on a break he’d checked his phone, smiling down at the texts that Grantaire had sent him.

He knew full well what was happening here. He was a little bit in love and, quite frankly, that was also a little bit scary.

See, he’d been thinking about Grantaire a lot, had been thinking about maybe asking him out to dinner or about inviting him over for a movie. It was just taking him an embarrassingly long time to bring himself to actually do it. And not just because his mind had started to dwell on Enjolras a lot ever since Grantaire had mentioned that they were acting like an old married couple.

Combeferre took a deep breath and finally typed out another message to Grantaire.

_Combeferre_ : Do you have any plans for tonight?

_Grantaire_ : not really

_Grantaire_ : why?

_Combeferre_ : Maybe we could have dinner?

_Grantaire_ : i’m actually making dinner right now

_Grantaire_ : i wouldn’t mind sharing

_Grantaire_ : but you’ll have to come over quickly

Combeferre laughed and quickly typed out another message, already grabbing his jacket.

_Combeferre_ : See you in a bit :-)

Grantaire greeted him wearing an apron with paint stains on it, which told Combeferre that he probably didn’t only use it for cooking. Although some of the red splotches might have been tomato sauce. “That was quick,” Grantaire said, winking at him as he ushered him inside, “you must be really hungry.”

Combeferre laughed and followed Grantaire into the kitchen, which looked like Grantaire had tried to hastily clean it up. He hadn’t quite succeeded, but Combeferre didn’t really mind and soon got deep into a conversation with Grantaire about his favorite curry recipes.

Combeferre didn’t leave after dinner – he stuck around for a trip to the ice cream shop around the corner and for a movie, sitting closer to Grantaire than was probably acceptable, thinking about putting his arm around him or taking his hand or just shifting even closer all the while.

Once the credits were starting to roll, Grantaire cleared his throat. “Combeferre, I’ve been thinking…” He reached for the remote to hit pause, giving Combeferre a look that he couldn’t quite read.

“Yes?” Combeferre prompted.

“Right, well, as I said, I’ve been thinking,” Grantaire paused again, looking down at his hands, “about you. And seeing you… a lot. And, um, spending time with you is really nice.”

“I agree,” Combeferre said, his lips curling into a smile.

“Yeah, you know, the thing is, I’ve been thinking about Enjolras as well. Like, I talked to him on the phone for hours the other day and we didn’t yell at each other, we just talked and I liked that. I really like _him_. And, honestly, I wouldn’t say that if I didn’t know that you have the exact same problem.”

“I don’t–” It was a bit of a reflex to deny it, really, even though Grantaire was one hundred percent right. “Well, maybe I do.”

“It’s hard to miss the way you look at him. And you might not notice, but he looks at you the exact same way,” Grantaire muttered, giving Combeferre a gentle nudge. “So I had this idea. And maybe it’s not a very good idea, I don’t know, but I have this gallery opening two weeks from now and I thought we could go together. The two of us and Enjolras.”

Combeferre only stared at him for a moment. Grantaire was suggesting something that Combeferre had never even considered, although he certainly liked the idea. He liked the idea a lot. “Have you talked to Enjolras about this?”

“Well, not yet.” Grantaire smiled. “I thought we could ask him. Together.”

* * *

Thirty minutes later found them standing outside Enjolras’ building, both of them staring at his doorbell.

“I’m scared,” Grantaire said lowly.

“Well, this is quite possibly one of the strangest things I’ve ever considered doing,” Combeferre mumbled. “Not that it’s a bad thing, but…” He sighed.

“Oh, you’re just considering it?” Grantaire asked and elbowed him in the ribs. He obviously knew full well that Combeferre wasn’t _just considering it_. He’d spent the last twenty minutes holding his hand and going over things they could say to Enjolras until they’d decided to just wing it.

The door opened, making both of them jump. The elderly man who stepped outside gave them a disapproving look. Grantaire sniggered and quickly slipped inside, pulling Combeferre with him.

“So,” Grantaire said conversationally as he started climbing up the stairs, “where does Enjolras even live?”

“Second floor, the apartment on the right,” Combeferre said, following him up the stairs with a smile on his face.

It was Combeferre who eventually rang the doorbell and then knocked to let Enjolras know that they were already outside the door. He also had a key to the apartment, but Combeferre felt that right now was quite possibly the worst time to use it.

Enjolras opened the door for them a minute later, wearing sweatpants, his hair in a messy bun and a spoon in his mouth. He took it out, looking from Combeferre to Grantaire and back again. “Hello,” he said, quite obviously confused about their late-night visit.

“Hello,” Combeferre said, briefly glancing at Grantaire.

“Um, hey,” Grantaire said and that was it.

It had been a bad idea to just wing it, Combeferre realized that now, because it was rather obvious that neither of them knew what to say. That was actually a bit of a first for Combeferre. He cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, “there’s something Grantaire and I wanted to ask you.”

 


End file.
